Tag: postaday2012

What’s wrong with intentional community?

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Thousands of people sing and worship together in this intentional community in Taizé.

I wrote an article for a Christian magazine a couple of months ago and mentioned that a young missionary lived in an intentional community with other missionaries.

I thought it was cool, because the missionary said the four young women had weekly meetings and talked about any cohabiting issues that’d come up — like cleaning out the fridge. And then they’d pray together.

This minor reference to an intentional community was edited out of the article. I wondered why. But, as usual, I didn’t make a fuss. I never asked the editor, Was there something wrong with that information?

And then, last night, I saw the movie Wanderlust. The leader of the hippie commune corrects Paul Rudd, “No, not a commune; We prefer intentional community.” And everyone in the audience laughed. And then I got it. Intentional community is perceived as hippy, dippy, grungy, suspicious, free love, attractive but not sustainable.

Briefly, I lived in intentional community. There was hardship and friendship. (That's me on the right, with Lee, our wrangler).

Tell that to the monks and religious orders. Religious people, like monks, priests, nuns, and, even young adult missionaries, live together and care for one another in communities all over. And it makes good sense, especially as people age and do not have children or spouses to care for them. Human beings are social creatures. We crave community, intentional or ad hoc.

Is being one half of a married, straight couple the only sanctioned way to live? I don’t think so. I thought a lot about this when I went to Taizé a few years ago. In that monastery, the brothers seemed to care a lot about one another and they cared a lot about the thousands of people visiting and living with them. That is intentional community too.

Brother Roger, who founded the Taizé community in 1940, said, “I think that I never lost the intuition that community life could be a sign that God is love, and love alone.”

If an intentional community is based on love – and figuring out who cleans the fridge – that does not seem to be so crazy. That seems to me to be the point.

Auditioning

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I had an audition the other night at Riley-Grier Studios. I felt like a real professional actor. I had to add my name to a list of dozens of names of people auditioning, but they were running right on time and took me within 10 minutes. They were friendly and curious to hear my writing.

I read a short piece on how my kid is growing up and that’s awful and also great. The show is for a Mother’s Day show called, “Listen To Your Mother.”

I think it went well. Two of the three women were smiling and laughing at my piece. Of course I wondered why the third one wasn’t. Should I not have worn pearls? (Oddly, I always wear pearls to the Parents In Action Meeting, which is where I’d been right before my 8:30 pm audition time. It’s a little uniform I have for parents’ nights.)

Auditioning threw me back to a time in my life where I went on a lot of auditions (and got not a lot of  roles). I felt those same feelings – pride and vulnerability, confidence and insecurity. And always this: I’m ambivalent about being judged.

I’m glad I did it. It was one of my New Year’s Resolutions – to make my work a little more public and to perform on a regular basis.

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Today was an extremely dreary day. The view from my office.
I don't have a head shot any more, but this is one of my Facebook profiles. No pearls.
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Jones Beach in the winter is so empty and peaceful and beautiful. This has nothing to do with my post.

Time Management

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I want to get my kids off the internet and focus on their homework. I want to be a beacon of light for them, teaching my darlings the ancient art of self-discipline.

My brother J. says that in work styles, we are either woodpeckers of hummingbirds. And I think we can agree that the Coudals are hummingbirds, whirring, darting, tasting, moving, buzzing. I would like to try life as a woodpecker, hammering away, dull, obedient, effective.

I actually have a lot of down time, like the other night, here, I was double parked, waiting to drive my daughters to book club.

I believe breathing has to do with focus. I would like to teach my kids to take deep breaths into the depths of their beings to improve their ability to focus.

Or at least guide my children in the art of becoming effective managers of their limited time. We are all given the same amount time per day. It’s not like money; it is an equitable resource.

And I’d like to write more about this, but first let me dart off and tell you that last night, I read this interesting article, Are You As Busy As You Think? by Laura Vanderkam for the Wall Street Journal.

The article reminded me that when I hear people complain about how busy they are, I think they’re trying to tell me, “I’m important.” It’s anathema in this culture to say, “Yup, I’ve got the right balance of work and life. I’m doing just fine, thank you.”

No, we must be martyrs on the pyre of overwork. And if someone tells me, “Mary Beth, you seem to have the work/life balance down. You’re good at self-care,” I think, “Ummm, are you telling me I’m lazy?” I don’t know where I got this paradigm that I should act extremely busy and overworked at all times.

I’d like to write more, but I’ve got to get to work (but first, check my Facebook) because I am sooooooooo busy. No, wait, let me first take a few deep, cleansing breaths. And focus!

Art Students League

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My girls didn’t like getting up at 8:30 on Saturday mornings to go to art class, but I think they kind of liked exhibiting their work in an art show. I liked it and felt proud of my darlings. We met some fellow artists. A few good friends stopped by. Art is awesome.
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ughs for UGGS

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When C. wanted a pair of boots for winter, I thought a $20 pair of rain boots would be nice. No. She wanted UGGs. Of course, she did. Everyone wants them. So Santa brought her a pair of $165 boots. Yes. That’s right, I spent more on her boots than I did for either of my wedding dresses.

A week or two after Christmas, I was invited to a fancy cocktail party and realized, due to all my dashing around the city, I wouldn’t have time to stop home to change out of my sneakers into my one pair of stylish (Aerosoles) boots, so I ducked into a store and bought myself a pair of boots. The store I went into was K-Mart and those boots cost $18.

What happened to me? I wondered then. And I’m wondering now. How did I get in this rut of spending so much on my children and so little on myself? I think I am not unusual.

All parents want better for their children than they have themselves. Parents sacrifice for their children.

Basically, I realize, too, I’m jealous. My kids are more stylish and have nicer stuff than me. By being aware of this, maybe I can change it.

And I do have one consolation: C. will grow out of those boots and then I can have them. I miss getting those nice sneakers from my son.

enlarge

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Right outside my office, there was an empty cubicle and right next to the empty cube was P’s desk which overflowed with papers and magazines. I told P. that she and I should both ask management to break down that wall and enlarge her space into the empty cube. We did and now there’s one large cube.

I like encouraging people and being encouraged to learn, grow, and get bigger. Not everyone does this. I think sometimes people might feel like enlarging someone else’s space might diminish their own. But admiring and enlarging others makes us bigger too.

I love the way Vincent Van Gogh wrote in his letters to Theo about his admiration for his contemporaries. He admired religion, Japanese art, other artists.

“If I love someone or something, then I do so in earnest and sometimes with real passion and fire, but that doesn’t make me think as a matter of course that only a few people are perfect and all the others worthless — far from it.”

More inspiring quotes from Vincent van Gogh:

“There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”

“I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things.”

And in his letters, Vincent advised his brother, Theo, over and over, to “admire.” For me, that means to enlarge others. I look for the good in everyone and try to get them more space.

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My stupid feet

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Yesterday I was back at the podiatrist’s. I really have to take care of my Plantar Fasciitis. The bottoms of my feet hurt all the time, but especially when I wake up in the morning and after I do any sports.

Tennis season is coming up. I want to keep running. I want to be an active person, beyond doing my beautiful pilates and yoga and occasional swimming.

My podiatrist told me I MUST do the assigned stretches for my feet every day. She gave me a (cortisone?) shot in one foot and told me to come back for two more on that foot and then we’ll do three shots on the other foot. The shot hurt. I don’t want shots.

I know as we get older, like an old car, we start to break down. But I need to stay fit so that I stay sane and can destress. I don’t want to break down. I want to keep running smoothly. With Chris’s illness, I have to and want to stay healthy for the kids (and for myself).

Last night I couldn’t sleep. My forehead is still recovering from the basal cell carcinoma surgery two weeks ago. And now I’m concerned about my feet. These are small, even insignificant problems, certainly not life-threatening.

But even ordinary health problems can be irritating, slow me down. I’d like to write more about this, but I have to wake the kids and do my stupid physical therapy for my stupid feet.

This Saturday

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(Art Students League from Creative Commons, Wikipedia)

All this week, my daughters’ art is hanging up at the Art Students League on 57th Street, 2nd floor. Please stop in and see it. There will be a party for the class on February 18th, Saturday,  from 10 am to 12. You’re invited.

Just like a real art opening, there will be snacks, schmoozing, and admiration (and a little jealousy?) for the artists. The league also has a funky cafeteria that my kids love so stop in some time, even if it’s not this week!

I do have a time conflict on Saturday. This is the same time my watercolor class meets. I will have to multitask. (Last week I had to depart class early for my son’s regional swim meet!)

Despite the effort to get to art class and to parent well, there is nothing better than being a parent and a painter, except maybe being the parent of painters.

Art is a powerful tool for self expression and personal transformation.

Make something creative out of your day. And if you don’t have an idea, go to the Art Students League for inspiration.

Write Your Spiritual Autobiography

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I am proud (and a little embarrassed) to be the guest speaker at the Resource Center for Women in Ministry at New York Theological Seminary next Tuesday, February 21, 2012 from 4 pm to 6 pm in Suite 500 at the Interchurch Center. Please join me. It’s free.

We will be talking about and practicing Writing Your Spiritual Autobiography. The workshop is inspired by Dan Wakefield’s book, The Story of Your Life.

Here is the sign in the elevator at work promoting the event!

I have led this workshop a dozen time and every single time, it’s different and the stories are brilliant. Seriously.

We write about and share how small, quiet, ordinary events shape our lives in unexpected ways.

Yes, the big events — the weddings, births, divorces, funerals — are important, but so too, are the ordinary days when nothing really seems to happen. The extraordinary is found in the ordinary. And we discover a pattern, a meaning — our own awesome-ness. We just need to take a moment to write down our stories and share them.

I am always blown away by the stories that I hear. There is a magical and healing power to writing and sharing your story. Just come to the workshop. You’ll see what I mean.

Coffee & Meditation

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Some mornings I only get out of bed because of the coffee. And my journal. And my friends. Okay, and my family. But coffee comes first.

Today’s Valentine’s Day. Perhaps it’s a little depressing for many? Like my family of origin, my husband’s not too big on gifts, cards, remembering holidays. I, on the other hand — the one who overcompensates — made every one a personalized Valentine’s Day card. And though I didn’t get much — or anything — at home, I did get some little cards with fair trade chocolates and a pink Valentine’s dish towel at work. I love my work peeps!

It was an ordinary day. I worked my job, did Pilates at lunch, worked again, then taught a session of comedy/improv at the Middle School, made dinner, shared dinner with the fam, went to the theater with my husband, (we saw The Broken Heart a play from the 1620s by John Ford — it was a bit of a slog). I took the subway home alone (I couldn’t stay for the second half). I shooed the kids to bed. I did the dishes.

And tomorrow I’ll do it all over again (though I hope I don’t have to see that play again).

I want to be grateful for every single day. I want to have an open, loving heart, especially on Valentine’s Day. And I did find one moment of deep calm and contentment in my day. At the end of Pilates class, Shayne, our teacher, turned off the lights. We lay in the Yoga corpse pose, Savasana. Then, Shayne read this poem by Hafiz:

The Sun Never Says

Even after all this time
The sun never says to the earth,
“You owe Me.”

Look what happens with
A love like that,
It lights the Whole Sky.

Is that amazing, or what? Meditation is almost as good as coffee.